


Let Your Heart Be Light

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: Robin and Cormoran may not be having the merriest of Christmases individually, but together they find their festive cheer.





	Let Your Heart Be Light

Cormoran downed another gulp of his pint while he waited for Robin, eyeing off the half-arsed Christmas decorations scattered around the Tottenham. It was as though the owners just threw in the towel one night and gave the booze-soaked regulars free rein. All things considered, though, Strike preferred the no-frills atmosphere compared to the fanfare he was destined to endure this festive season. His half-sister Lucy meant well, but the thought of sharing an awkward Christmas dinner with his three raucous nephews plus Greg’s extended family made him want to hibernate till New Year’s. Nevermind the endless ‘well-meaning’ questions Lucy would bombard him with about his personal life. He’d rather go three rounds of interrogation with the Metropolitan Police than have to hear another mention of his love life, or lack thereof.

His mood lifted when he saw Robin enter the premises, her red-gold hair flecked with snowflakes and her cheeks flushed from the cold. Cormoran offered her a nod and raised his near-empty glass when she spotted him at their table and motioned that she was heading to the bar. A few moments later Robin brought their drinks over, Doom Bar for him and a large white wine for herself, and set them down while she unraveled a thick, cream woollen scarf from around her neck.

“Alright?” Cormoran asked, noting with a frown the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the way her coat buttons weren’t in the right holes. 

“Yeah, fine,” she replied with a brief smile, wrestling off her coat to rest on the back of her chair before sitting down. “I mean, obviously not _completely_ fine after spending the day with Matthew packing up the flat and arguing over who gets custody of the appliances,” she added in a rush, lifting her wine glass to her lips to take an eager mouthful. “But other than that… God, these decorations are a bit miserable aren’t they?” she said, avoiding eye contact with Strike.

Cormoran took a sip of his ale, thinking it probably wasn’t ideal to mention that she didn’t appear too merry herself. He supposed spending a whole day with Twat-thew would do that to a person, even an infinitely kind one like Robin. “We don’t have to do this tonight you know,” he reminded her. “Or at all,” he supplied, smirking when Robin couldn’t help whipping her head around to face him.

“Excuse you, it took at least three reschedules and a bribe of a Sunday roast to get you to this work party tonight,” she reminded him, her eyes flashing with a glimmer of their old spark. “We’re not about to cancel now.”

“Is it really considered a party when there’s only two people involved?” he countered, digging into the packet of crisps he’d bought while he was waiting, before offering her some.

Robin shrugged one shoulder, plucking a few crisps from the pack. “More of an intimate gathering then,” she said offhandedly, the apples of her cheeks staining pink as the words hung in the air. “Besides, it’s Christmas, Ebenezer Strike,” she pressed on. “There’s always time for revelry.” Robin stood up quickly from her seat. “I’ll go and order us those meals then, shall I?”

Cormoran’s hum of agreement was barely heard by Robin as she strode to the counter. He made a mental note to compensate her from the petty cash in the office, and then hoped that mental note would cancel out the echoing of the phrase _intimate gathering_ brazenly dancing around his brain. As he’d told himself many times in the past, no good could come from that train of thought in regards to his work partner. Especially now ‘Mr. and Mrs. Cunliffe’ were no more.

After Robin and Matthew were married in July, they tried to make a proper go of things as newlyweds, but the cracks they had papered over began to show after only a couple of months. Or as Cormoran liked to think of it, Matthew was really gunning for wanker of the year. After Robin returned to work (much to Cormoran’s immense relief), it didn’t take long for Matthew’s jealousy and ignorance to rear their ugly heads once more. Robin also felt increasingly disenchanted with the whole concept of a happily ever after. Feeling suffocated and alone probably weren’t the milestones someone wanted to reach in a supposed state of marital bliss. Robin finally made the choice to divorce in November, which Matthew didn’t take well at all, but she knew despite all the emotional turmoil she had done the right thing for her happiness and sanity in the long-run.

“Food might take a bit longer than usual,” Robin announced as she rejoined Strike. “They’re pretty busy tonight with a few Christmas dos.”

Cormoran glanced over at the big crowd of boisterous people at the corner tables, each wearing silly festive jumpers, and paper crowns from their crackers. “Glad we stuck to our usual dress code for the evening,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the partygoers and encouraging Robin to take a look.

“Bugger, and there was me hoping to get you in a Santa hat and document it on Instagram,” Robin replied, grinning at Cormoran.

“Not bloody likely,” he retorted, hiding his smirk behind his beer.

Robin chuckled, absently massaging the back of her neck as she took more crisps from the packet.

“Everything OK?” Cormoran asked, jutting his chin towards her affliction as she looked at him in confusion. “Have you hurt yourself?”

“Oh, no, nothing major,” Robin replied, popping the crisps into her mouth. “Just not used to lugging about heavy moving boxes,” she said, offering him a sombre smile.

“That new flat work out alright then?”

Robin nodded, rubbing her thumb across a lipstick smudge on her glass. “Yeah, that’ll be ready for me to move in next week. And please thank Nick and Ilsa again when you see them, that was really kind of them.”

“I think you already won them over with the oversized Christmas hamper,” Cormoran replied. Once his friends had heard about Robin potentially becoming homeless, they’d only been too happy to offer up their rental in town for her to stay in – at mate’s rates no less. “They must _really_ like you,” Cormoran teased. “I didn’t even get a look in when I was bunking on the camp bed in the office.”

“It was pure luck their tenants were vacating at the right time,” she replied, shaking her head at his ‘wounded’ expression. “I’m glad I’ll be close by to you,” she said, her eyes widening slightly. “For work and all that, I mean,” she added.

“Yeah,” Cormoran said, trying to drown out the _intimategatheringintimategathering_ chorus in his head with whatever godawful Christmas song was blaring through the pub speakers. “Me too.” They shared a self-conscious smile as Cormoran looked about the room. “Right then, might get some more crisps while we’re waiting, hey?”

Robin couldn’t help but laugh fondly as Cormoran got to his feet. “I’d say don’t spoil your dinner but I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening is there?”

“A few years back at Lucy’s I ate a whole tray of mince pies before Christmas lunch,” Cormoran admitted with a smirk, recalling of the look of mortification on his half-sister’s face. “Still managed to have double helpings of everything plus three serves of pudding.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Robin said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds very much like a man I know at work who eats all the digestives out of the biscuit tin, leaving his poor assistant with crumbs,” she said innocently.

“Sounds like a right tosser that one,” Cormoran grinned, heading towards the bar. “You should spike his tea with laxatives.”

“… It’s my New Year’s resolution!” Robin’s voice called out to his retreating figure.

When Cormoran returned to the table with the crisps and another round of drinks he found a rectangular shaped box waiting for him, neatly wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with a red ribbon. He eyed Robin suspiciously, noting that she looked a little too pleased with herself. “What’s this then?” he said, taking his seat.

Robin took a sip of her wine. “It’s a dancing monkey,” she replied dryly, nudging the gift closer to him. “Go on, open it!”

“I thought we said we weren’t doing presents?” he pointed out, before noticing a card sitting underneath the gift that said _‘open second’_ on the envelope.

“We did, but this job has made me very good at being stealthy so of course I was going to sneak a present in,” Robin grinned, resting her chin on her hand. “Merry Christmas, Corm.”

Allowing himself a smile, Cormoran carefully tore open the present, snorting in amusement when he found a large package of snowman shaped shortbread inside. “Does this mean I have to save you some?” he grinned.

“Oh no, I already bought my own pack and hid them in the office,” she replied with a smirk. “Learned my lesson the hard way.”

Cormoran couldn’t help opening the shortbread and shoving one in his mouth before moving onto the card. Instead of the usual Christmas scribe he was expecting, however, there was a handyman’s business card taped inside with ‘10am January 4th’ written on it.

Robin smiled at Cormoran’s quizzical look. “We’re finally getting that godawful lift fixed in the building,” she said, smiling even more broadly when Cormoran’s mouth gaped open.

“How the bloody hell did you manage that?” Cormoran said in awe. “The landlord’s usually a prick, he’s never listened to my complaints about it before.”

“I’m very intimidating when I want to be,” Robin replied, lifting her chin high and rolling her shoulders back to playfully preen under his astonished gaze. “That and the fact that I offered our services at a very discounted price if he ever needed them,” she admitted.

Cormoran plucked out another shortbread, pointing it at Robin with a grin. “You are completely brilliant, do you know that?” he said, taking a bite of the snowman.

“Oh stop, I’ll get a big head and my paper crown won’t fit Christmas day,” Robin said, swatting his praise away with her hand, but her lips curled up into a smile.

“Seriously though, Robin, that’ll do wonders for me,” Cormoran admitted, resting his hand on top of hers. “So thank you very much.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on top, neither of them mentioning the way both of their faces felt a slight rush of heat. “Sorry if I slobbered crumbs on you,” he joked weakly, brushing her hand with the pad of his thumb.

“All good,” Robin chirped as he let her go. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her skin tingle where his lips had been. “And you’re very welcome.” 

They sipped their drinks and smiled tentatively at one another, relieved when their meals finally arrived to keep them busy.

* * *

Cormoran lit up a cigarette as they stepped out of the Tottenham onto the snow-covered street, making sure the smoke wouldn’t billow back into Robin’s face while they walked. “Well that wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Cormoran said, laughing when Robin whacked his arm in reprimand.

“Like I told you a thousand times, Mr. Grinch, I wasn’t about to force you into caroling or make you wear a silly jumper,” Robin said in a beleaguered voice. “I offered you a nice, normal Christmas party and we had a nice, normal Christmas party, so there.”

“… Pudding was a bit dry, though, don’t you think?” Cormoran replied, biting back a smirk when he heard Robin scoff.

“I’ll make your face a dry pudding if you’re not careful.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea but don’t test me,” Robin retorted, glancing up at Cormoran with a stern look before joining in with his amused expression. “Just give me a few more seconds of festivity before I have to get on the Tube would you?”

Cormoran took a quick puff of his cigarette. “I was thinking, did you want to pop into the office first to pick up that surveillance gear for tomorrow?” he suggested offhandedly. “Thought it might save you a trip in the morning that’s all.”

“Yeah, that’d be handy actually,” Robin replied, nestling her chin deeper into her scarf to keep warm. “Good idea.”

“I’ve been known to have them every now and then,” Cormoran smiled. They walked another block in companionable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Cormoran noticed Robin chewing on her bottom lip, a habit she performed when something was troubling her. “Everything OK?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, fine,” she said, hesitating before speaking what was on her mind. “I’ve just been meaning to ask… not that there’s any pressure mind you, and don’t feel as though you have to say yes… ‘cause I know you hate Christmas, but you’ve been complaining for months now and…” she rambled, trailing off when she noticed the confused look on Cormoran’s face.

“Did you sneak a few shots of whiskey while I was in the loo?” said Cormoran in bemusement.

“Shut up,” Robin chided, brushing a strand of windswept hair from her face. “What I was trying to say was, if you’re not doing anything Christmas Day you’re more than welcome to spend it at my parents’ place… With me there too, obviously,” she added, rolling her eyes at herself. Robin faltered when Cormoran took a little too long to answer. “It’s no trouble if you don’t want to. I just thought you were so reluctant about going to Lucy’s, but you probably already have something on with Nick and Ilsa or…”

“No, no, that actually sounds… nice,” Cormoran said, finally finding his voice. He stubbed his cigarette into the wet ground with his boot, and tucked his hands into his coat pockets, one of which was storing a half-eaten box of shortbread. Robin’s offer had admittedly thrown him for a loop at first. The ‘intimate gathering’ chant came back at full force in his brain at the idea of spending such a personal time with her and her loved ones. But when he was reminded of his alternate options (either an awkward time at Lucy’s or eating a curry for one all alone in his apartment), Robin’s offer suddenly became quite appealing. “I’d be honoured.”

“You would?” Robin said, allowing herself a small smile.

“Yeah,” Cormoran smiled back, eyes crinkling. “Christmas at Masham, hey? Bit of alright is it?”

Robin grinned, thinking about the reindeer ring toss game that had become tradition in their family where someone had to wear blow-up antlers on their head while everyone else took turns pelting hoops at them. She decided to keep that as a ‘fun’ surprise for Cormoran on the day. “It has its moments,” she offered mysteriously, laughing when Cormoran raised an eyebrow at her. “If nothing else we always have enough food to feed a whole country, so you’ll be in good hands.”

“That’s a relief then,” Cormoran exclaimed. They turned the corner that led to their office building. “What should I bring along with me?”

“We’ll work the finer details out later,” said Robin, making a show of squinting at him. “What size would you take in an elf outfit, though? Did I fail mention that Christmas at our place is fancy dress?” Her tongue poked into the side of her cheek as she tried not to laugh.

“Yeah, keep it up, Ellacott,” Cormoran retorted as they entered their building. They passed the dodgy birdcage lift as they ascended the staircase. Cormoran quite merrily, and aptly, flipping it the bird on the way.

Robin chuckled, loosening her scarf a notch. “We won’t know ourselves when that thing starts working. Although I have such dear, fond memories of almost dying on this staircase,” she joked, holding a hand to her heart.

“Quite the first day wasn’t it,” Cormoran quipped. “And look how far we’ve come.”

“Look how far indeed,” Robin said with a warm smile. It soon turned into a befuddled one when they arrived at the office door to find a big square of wrapping paper covering the glass panel. “What on earth…” she murmured, reaching out her hand to touch the gaudy, red bow stuck to the middle with tape. “What’s all this then?” she said in awe, turning back to glance at Cormoran.

“A dancing monkey,” Cormoran quipped, echoing Robin’s earlier commentary. He made his way up the last two steps from where he’d been watching Robin’s reaction with a smile on his face, and stood next to her.

She laughed, nudging his arm with her elbow. “What happened to not doing presents?”

“Are we going to rehash our _entire_ conversation from the pub or are you going to open it already?” he mocked, his eyes glinting with mirth.

“Option B,” Robin replied, taking a second to absorb the moment as she had a presumptuous but also keenly hopeful idea of what she was about to unwrap. Peeling the paper back from the top right hand corner, Robin’s lips split into a wide grin as the newly updated glass panel was revealed.

_C.B. Strike & R.V. Ellacott  
Private Investigators_

“Corm,” Robin said in an awed voice, clasping her hand to her mouth. She looked up at her partner and friend with happy tears in her eyes. “I love it.”

Cormoran rubbed the back of his neck, unable to hide his pleased smile. “Well it was about time wasn’t it? You’ve more than earned your spot,” he acknowledged. “In all honesty, I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you here.”

Taking herself and Cormoran by surprise, Robin threw her arms around his neck and engulfed him in a fierce hug, swaying on her tiptoes to reach his height. Cormoran stilled for a moment before bringing his arms around her waist and hugging her in return.

Robin leaned her head back, beaming, before pressing her lips to his cheek in a quick kiss before she could talk herself out of it. “Merry Christmas, Cormoran,” she said happily.

Cormoran could only look at her in wonder as she slowly untangled herself from their embrace, but kept one arm looped around his as she admired her name on the office door. “Merry Christmas, Robin,” he smiled.


End file.
